"Don't you see how it was?" he exclaimed, in a subdued voice of melodious sadness. "Lady Ogram discovered that her niece--you remember May Tomalin? thought rather too well of me. This did not suit her views; she had planned a marriage between May and Lord Dymchurch. You know what her temper was. One day she gave me the choice: either I married Constance Bride, or I never entered her house again. Imagine my position. Think of me, with my ambitions, my pride, and the debt I had incurred to you. Can you blame me much if, seeing that Lady Ogram's life might end any day, I met her tyranny by stratagem. How I longed to tell you the truth! But I felt bound in honour to silence. Constance Bride, my friend and never anything more, agreed to the pretence of an engagement. Wasn't it brave of her? And so things went on, until the day when Dymchurch came down to Rivenoak, and proposed to May. The silly girl refused him. There was a terrible scene, such as I hope never to behold again. May was driven forth from the house, and Lady Ogram, just as she was bidding me take steps for my immediate marriage, fell to the ground unconscious--dying." He paused impressively. The listener was panting as if she had run a race. "And the will?" she asked. "It dates from a year ago. May Tomalin is not mentioned in it. I, of course, have nothing." Iris gazed at the floor. A little sound as of consternation had passed her lips, but she made no attempt to console the victim of destiny who sat with bowed head before her. After a brief silence, Lashmar told of the will as it concerned Constance Bride, insisting on the fact that she was a mere trustee of the wealth bequeathed to her. With a humorously doleful smile, he spoke of Lady Ogram's promise to defray his election expenses, and added that Miss Bride, in virtue of her trusteeship, would carry out this wish. Another exclamation sounded from the listener, this time one of joy. "Well, that's something! I suppose the expenses are heavy, aren't they?" "Oh, not very. But what's the use? Of course I withdraw." He let his hand fall despondently. Again there was silence. "And that is why you thought of taking poison?" asked Iris, with a quick glance at his lowering visage. "Isn't it a good reason? All is over with me. If Lady Ogram had lived to make her new will, I should have been provided for. Now I am penniless and hopeless." "But, if she had lived, you would have had to marry Miss Bride." Dyce made a sorrowful gesture. "No. She would never have consented, even if I could have brought myself to such a sacrifice. In any case, I was doomed." "But--" Iris paused, biting her lip. "You were going to say?" "Only--that I suppose you would have been willing to marry that girl, the niece."